Our Origins, Our Pasts
by dragonmentality
Summary: "This is not your planet to rule," the Decepticon warned. "The Fallen shall rise again." Robert Epps was always the one to say what everyone was thinking, and this time was no different. "That doesn't sound good." Sequel to Searching For the All Spark. On Hiatus.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, and this will apply for the duration of this story. Unless, somehow, I do end up owning it, to which I will brag endlessly.

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><p>Chapter One<p>

Another battle, another opportunity to exercise his trigger finger. Ironhide managed to weave through the evacuated streets of Shanghai with more grace than the humans that were following behind in the military vehicle. Frequent scans showed that the humans occupying his truck bed were secreting adrenaline like there was no tomorrow.

Ironhide knew that for some of them, there wouldn't be.

"Alright, Ironhide. We got echoes. _Vamos_," Major William Lennox greeted, immediately getting straight to business. "Steel stacks at two o'clock."

Ironhide transformed, the humans immediately flanking him instead of staring up at him in awe like they had when witnessing the Autobot's transformation for the first time. Their training had done them good.

"He's here. I smell him," he confirmed. It was now NEST procedure to have an Autobot confirm a Decepticon contact. Ever since a unit of humans blew up a non-sentient and very human-made truck in Bolivia three months ago, it was a requirement.

It was also procedure for the humans to sweep for their target, Ironhide being unable to pinpoint the Decepticon's position because of a basic, though effective, scrambler that was commonly used for situations such as these.

Lennox's careful instructions echoed through Ironhide's processor. He kneeled into a crouch and watched, in position to take front line action, which was unlikely with Decepticon cowardice, and the rest of the Autobots surrounding their point to intervene if necessary.

And then their plan, quite literally, blew up in their faces. Blasts from the Decepticon had debris obsuring vision as the steal stacks that the Major warned about flew threw the air, crashing to the ground and pinning or killing NEST soldiers.

Ironhide roared, unwilling to see more of his students dead, firing at the Decepticon as human air cover started their own offensive attacks. He growled in frustration, the helicopters getting in the way of his cannon fire.

The weapons master had to admit that the humans had been helpful, but there were times when he wanted to pound Optimus Prime's head in for agreeing to that damned treaty.

Frantic, barely controlled orders came from Lennox as he tried to limit the damage already caused. Arcee, Sideswipe and the Twins, the _Twins_, Ironhide shuddered, just imagining how they would screw this up, were dispatched when Sideways did as all Decepticons do when the fire is trained on them. He fled, because one motto frequently used by their faction always applicable: when in doubt, get the frag out.

Arcee could handle herself, or rather, her_selves_, as she pursued the 'Con. She had eagerly agreed to participate in an experimental technology program, allowing her to have three bodies instead of her original one. Ironhide trusted her to get the job done. He had, after all, trained her himself.

Sideswipe was another capable warrior, agile and _fast_, but incredibly narcissistic. Confidence was something that Ironhide preached to his students, but there was a drastic difference between that and praising yourself to no end. As Sideswipe did. All the fragging time.

And then there were the Twins, Skids and Mudflap. They had been messengers on Cybertron, and were now practically salivating over Optimus, their war hero. It didn't help that their crazy antics lead to more than a few incidents that required extensive paperwork. The proof of this problem lended itself when their comms indicated that they had been unable to properly maneuver themselves and two halves of that atrocious ice-cream truck fell apart. And then they began fighting. The lecture Ironhide was going to give to them about proper battlefield behavior was already piecing itself together.

As Ironhide started to go crazy with his processor going in all different directions, the sound of sanity reached audio receptors.

"Autobots, I'm in pursuit," Optimus said, making Ironhide vent in relief as he followed the Decepticon as it rampaged through the streets of Shanghai.

Sideswipe confirmed that Decepticon Contact Two was dead, and all NEST forces began to focus in on the first. Optimus was making direct hits from on top of the 'Cons head, while Ironhide and air cover targeted their enemy's only mode of transportation: his wheels.

The ending result was pure luck, and a massive amount of it. Somehow, and the weapons master was thankful it happened this way, the Decepticon ended up tumbling off the freeway and sliding into an abandoned warehouse, shielding them from the stupidly curious humans that would have otherwise posted this incident on YouTube.

Ironhide transformed, gripping the cement barrier of the freeway and leaped over, his landing shaking the ground. The NEST soliders that had gathered around bent their knees, the action requiring no thought.

Falling over time and time again for the same reason in training exercises had conditioned them to expect this.

"Threat level?" Optimus asked, as he and Ironhide approached the entrance. Both already knew the answer, but training had embedded these actions into their processors so that they would never die by making a stupid mistake.

The weapon's master scoffed. "Minimal." The humans followed cautiously, their weapons aiming at the ground but their muscles tensed to bring it back up and fire their target.

"Punk-ass Decepticon," Ironhide snapped at seeing the slagger, the memories of the lost humans coming to the forefront of his processor. Optimus looked at him, with an expression clearly asking "was that necessary?"

To Ironhide, it was absolutely necessary. There would be funerals the next day. The least he could do is show the 'Con how low he was on the theoretical totem pole.

"Any last words?" Optimus Prime asked, his intent mostly to mix his actions with that of human culture in an effort to better understand the human's world. The Internet was full of information, but they needed to gain the true knowledge throug their own experiences.

"This is not your planet to rule," the 'Con managed to make out through slightly damaged vocal processors. "The Fallen shall rise again."

Robert Epps was always the one to say what everyone was thinking, and this time was no different. "That doesn't sound good."

"Not today," Optimus cocked blaster and fired, tired of hearing Decepticon threats.

"What does he mean by the fallen?" Lennox asked, glancing at the body and then up at the weapons master.  
>Ironhide shrugged.<p>

"He probably means the fallen as in, like, those that have fallen because of you guys," a younger soldier piped up. All eyes and optics fell on him, and he looked down. "I mean, like all the Decepticons that died two years ago."

"Not likely kid," Lennox said, and then looked at the two Autobots. "Unless you guys have the kind of tech to make robot zombie armies."

Optimus' optics flared in amusement. "Not that I know of, Major. I would not fear a robot zombie apocalypse if I were you."

"Good, 'cause that would be damn scary and our asses would be dead," Epps muttered, earning chuckles from the group.

"All right," Lennox called, settling the small crowd. "Anything else happen?"

"We need to get the Twins new alternates," Arcee spoke from the back, having arrived silently.

"What happened _this_ time?" The Major asked, stunned at how complete _bad_ the Twins were. At everything. There was nothing that they were good at, except maybe annoying the shit out of each other. But Lennox was sure they could find a way to mess that up, too.

"The same thing as last time," she ground out, clearly irritated. "And Sideswipe is on a 'sexy beast' rampage again."

There were muffled groans from the humans. They were sick of hearing how awesome he was.

Optimus and Ironhide glanced at each other. "I forgot how irritating younglings could be," the weapons master said. Bumblebee and Arcee were the only exception to that rule, because their audio receptors seemed to function when he taught them.

The Prime vented heavily. "Better irritating than eternally silent."

"Prime, I'm not quite sure about that," Ironhide countered, just as Sideswipe and the Twins made an appearance. "Look. They're about to prove it to you."

"Prove what?" Sideswipe asked. "That I'm a _sexy beast_? Arcee, will agree with me. Right, babe?"

Humans and Autobots froze as they watched for the femme's reaction. "Say that again," she growled, crouching into a predatory position while Sideswipe cautiously unsheathed his blades, knowing that he had gone so far over the line that he may never return.

"Arcee," Optimus warned. She didn't shift at all, not bothering to acknowledge her superior. "_Arcee_." He tried again, this time with success.

"Your paint job is fragged," she said, knowing that it would do more emotional damage than anything else she could have said. She knew it wasn't fair, but it was a rare fight that she fought fairly.

"Right," Lennox said. "Let's get outta here."

The Autobots folded down into their alternates, now harmless-looking Earth vehicles. To any civilians that might pass by, they were a collection of expensive cars and beautiful motorcycles. To the NEST soldiers, however, the three motorcycles hated the Corvette with a passion, the ice cream truck was two in one, both haves equally annoying, the Peterbilt semi was contemplative and thoughtful, while the plain black truck was busy analyzing the flaws that had occurred during their battle.

To the NEST soldiers, they were comrades and friends. They were their giant alien robot family.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: So, I used the footage from Showest 2009 where it has Bee talking, which was cut from ROTF. If you want to see it, Google "transformers showest 2009" and click on the first link.

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><p>Chapter 2<p>

Sam was in danger. Honestly, Bumblebee couldn't have the boy walk around in his own house without him creating trouble. The scout was getting some serious déjà vu; it was almost exactly like when Sam had made the mistake of taunting Trent and his jock friends on graduation day. It was a good thing that the boy could sprint like an Olympic track star, because the only thing the scout had been able to do was almost break their legs by almost running them over.

The lecture that Optimus Prime gave him afterwards was one for the history books.

"Bumblebee... Oh, my-"

"_Bumblebee_!" Sam screamed. Immediately, the scout roared out from the the garage, his processor blank except for three thoughts. _Sam. Danger. Protect him._

He transformed and rolled, his optics immediately locking on seven threats as his targeting systems had his cannon aiming and shooting. He supercharged his solar blaster, taking out the annoying little drone that had been on the roof. It took a few more well-placed shots and there was no danger.

_Sam is safe. You protected him._

"Bumblebee!" It was a harsh, angry shout from the human boy. "Get in the garage! Go!"

The scout looked down at his charge and moved his arms out in a "What the hell, man?" gesture.

"I'm about to have a nervous breakdown," Bumblebee knew that. Sam was always on that verge, but the scout had grown accustomed to the boy's panicked stammers. "Just go in the garage quietly, please." Sam's request was somewhat reasonable, but Bumblebee wasn't about to let this one go. He flung his arms towards the wreckage, the of which didn't really help his cause

Stomping away in frustration, he turned back to his charge. "_Whatever_." This was not cool.

"Get in the garage now," Sam ordered. Bumblebee crawled back into his own suffocating little prison cell, tossing back an old TV.

The scout knew he would have to make amends, and quickly. He would rather not be driving Sam and his family to the East Coast through a thick fog of awkward silence. Bumblebee was excited. He was _so_ excited. Soon, he would be out of this restricting, messy, garage and roaming the streets of the Princeton University campus. No longer would he have to listen to Judy Wiwicky's endless rants about tracking in mud, which seemed to also double as another lecture for Sam. And across the country, he wouldn't hear Ron's griping about neither of them having a job.

Knowing that it would be better to act guilty, an appropriately timed hit to his helm seemed to get Sam to believe that he "knew" what he had done wrong. It was nothing, but, whatever.

"Yeah, you know you're in trouble."

"He still having voice problems?" At least he could always count on a vote of sympathy from Mikaela.

"He's playing it up," Sam said, but this wasn't the case. Bumblebee could speak, in a sense, but only a few words at a time. While reattaching his legs, Ratchet delivered the Sparkbreaking news that it was likely that Bumblebee's vocal processors would be dysfunctional for the rest of the scout's life.

"Bee, I want to talk to you about he college thing, okay?" He sounded sad. Why did he sound sad?

"_I'm so excited and I just can't hide it_," Bumblebee found an appropriate song to express what he and Sam had been focused on for months.

"Hey, I'm not taking you with me," Sam said.

What? Bumblebee replayed what his charge had just said in his processor. _What?_ He stared at Sam in disbelief, deflating with a whine. Had that little incident, when Sam was in danger, really caused the boy to retract his invitation to college?

"I'm gonna wait outside, okay?" Mikaela said, exiting.

"Bumblebee, just hear me out, okay? Freshman aren't allowed to have cars, that's all it is." Well, then it was a good thing he wasn't a car. They would just have a talk with the dean and everything would be good. "It's best for both of us." No. It wasn't. Barricade was still lurking around out there, having fled from Mission City two years ago. And if Bumblebee wasn't around and Sam ended up mangled and mutilated... the scout would never forgive himself.

"I know it doesn't sound like it, but... You're an Autobot. You shouldn't be living in my dad's garage. I mean, you're suffocating in here." Bumblebee whined when he realized that they had reached the point when there was nothing more he could to to convince Sam that this was a terrible mistake.

He dropped his head down, the sight of Sam's young, healthy, vibrant face becoming unbearable. Because the more he looked at it, the more it started to decompose. The skin rotting away, maggots eating out his eye and his hair becoming brittle as his body rotted. His clothes were in shreds, mixing along with the pieces of torn flesh from a Decepticon viciously ripping away the boy's life.

_Sam was in danger_, a voice snarled at him. It was familiar, and for a good reason. It was his own. _Sam was in danger and you didn't protect him._

A skeletal hand reached out to Bumblebee, gripping the plating of his lower jaw and forcing him to make eye contact with a very alive, very healthy Sam. It was gone. Thank Primus it was gone. "Bee, will you look at me please?" Bumblebee dropped his gaze down to the cool, cement floor. He couldn't bear to look at the boy. Not when he knew that quickly, so quickly, the light could recede from his eyes and his heart could come to a halt.

"Hey. C'mon big guy. Look, the guardian thing is done, okay? You did your job. It's over with." But it wasn't over. Not until _Sam. Danger. Protect him. _Were off his processor and gone forever. Not until Sam's body deteriorated until he had to slip away peacefully in his sleep. Not until he was old and gray and he had grandchildren that Bumblebee could protect. Not until then.

Because no matter how much distance were put between them, _Sam. Danger. Protect him._ would be haunting his processor until there_ was _no danger. Until Sam could never be taken by death because he already had been stolen away from the world of the living.

"There's gotta be something else, Bee. There's gotta be a bigger purpose than just me." No. There wasn't. Unknowingly, their purpose had been to find him. During the thousands of years in which the humans were developing, changing, discovering, they had been looking for one small organic that was among trillions that had lived and died. The one organic where so many things could have been different, the slightest change in his ancestor's history effecting everything. They had been looking for Sam. "I can't be the end-all-be-all in your life." Not his whole life, but certainly this part of it.

"What. Is. Your. Purpose. _Sam_?" The last word was his own, sadness resting on his faceplates, becoming more emotional than he had in thousands of years. There had to be a justifiable explanation for this. Screw the fact that freshman couldn't have cars, and Bumblebee doubted that they would have reason to ban giant alien guardians from the grounds anyway.

"I-I dunno. I... I wanna be normal. I wanna go to college. Everybody has this. And I should be able to experience this. And I can't do that with you." Okay. That was a low blow. That one definitely stung.

"C'mon. This isn't the last time I'm gonna see you, Bee. C'mon. Don't do that. Bee, you're killing me, Bee. You'll always be my first car." During Sam's mini monologue, Bumblebee had Energon spill out from around his optical sensors. _This is how I feel. Don't you see that?_ But apparently, using human emotion cut him cut off, Sam's statements becoming dismissive and generic.

"You'll always be my first car." That seemed to be applicable, as most first cars ended up being memories.

Bumblebee was left to his own processings as Sam went to say his final goodbyes to his girlfriend. The boy's priorities were so incredibly fragged.

Even though he had given up on his guardian, there was still a voice whispering at the back of Bumblebee's processor.

_Sam will always be in danger. You have to protect him._

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><p>Author's Note: You see that little button below? It says review... you should really click on it. *Hint, hint.*<p>

A little explanation because this ended up morphing into something totally unexpected: I figured this is how Bee would feel, and there is_ so_ much emotion right after he says "What is your purpose, Sam?" The zomie-ish part just kinda wrote itself.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Really late update. Don't know why, but I really wasn't feeling it until I just said "what the hell" 45 minutes ago. So, here you go.

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><p>Chapter Three<p>

The Shanghai operation had not been executed as planned. It really hadn't been executed at all. Nothing went well compared how well it worked in theory. Earth and Cybertron were the same that way; theory was never reality.

And now they were feeling the repercussions of their failure. Director Galloway was gracing them with his forced presence again, but this time he was granted access. The President was not pleased, and he was sending someone to take care of it.

In the times that Optimus had seen the Director grappling with NEST soldiers, trying to obtain access onto base without the proper paperwork, he knew that this would be a conversation that no one would be leaving happily.

"All right, so this is where we communicate with the JCS," Optimus backed to where he would be clear to transform. The U-shaped platform was a simple, but ingenious, way to solve the height difference between the NEST soldiers and the Autobots. The Autobot leader was uncomfortable with literally speaking down to the soldiers, who also suffered from unnecessary strain on their necks. It was a problem that even Ratchet insisted should be fixed.

"And this area serves as the Autobots' hangar."

"Secure link to JCS is up, Major," a human called out.

"Secure line to the Pentagon is now open,"

"General?"

"Will, I saw the Shanghai op. We had a rough day out there."

"Yes, sir," the Major said, but quickly got to what they were all here for. "We have intel that I believe warrants an immediate debrief. Now with your permission, I can't let you see him, but I would like you to hear from the leader of the Autobots."

"Proceed."

Optimus transformed, grateful to be stretching into his b-pedal form. He turned back to look at Galloway, who stared up, doing his best impression of a gold fish. Humans tended to do that; and Optimus didn't know why. Whenever someone new saw him, they adopted the look of a gaping fish. Which didn't make sense, because humans and fish are two totally different species.

"You gotta wonder, if God made us in his image, who made him?" It was a nice compliment from Epps, but it did make Optimus uncomfortable. He was a modest mech, who believed in truth, justice, and the freedom of all sentient beings.

"General, our alliance has countermanded six Decepticon incursions this year, each on a different continent," Optimus summarized, not bothering to go into further explanation. He preferred his monologues to be about discipline and the Autobot way of life. And, of course, that freedom was the right of all sentient beings, which went unsaid. "They're clearly searching around the world for something, but last night's encounter came with a warning." He played the clip, and it sounded like the Decepticon had been gargling some mouthwash. Which was weird, because Decepticons weren't into hygiene.

"'The Fallen.'" The General repeated. "Meaning what?"

"Origin unknown," Optimus admitted. They knew about as much about their past as the humans knew about theirs, and it was possible that the organics knew more about their ancestors than Cybertronians did. "The only recorded history of our race was contained within the All Spark and lost with its destruction."

"Excuse me!" The Prime couldn't help but thinking _The goldfish speaks!_ He turned to look at Theodore Galloway, who was climbing up the ladder of the platform. "With this so-called All Spark now destroyed, why hasn't the enemy left the planet like you thought they would?" His tone was accusatory, and Optimus wondered if the human knew that the Autobot had a foot that he could be squished under.

"Director Galloway, our National Security Advisor. The President just appointed him liaison." Optimus smothered a smile. So he wasn't the only one annoyed with this new intruder. An awfully rude, slightly smelly intruder.

"Forgive the interruption, General. Excuse me. Coming through. Excuse me. Excuse me, soldier." Galloway more-or-less pushed his way across the platform. "After all the damage in Shanghai, the President is hard-pressed to say the job's getting done." Optimus went back to basic political diplomacy that Sentinel Prime had taught him. This was the threat. What was next was the thing that should be considered if you didn't want said threat to happen. "Now, under the classified Alien/Autobot Cooperation Act, you agreed to share your intel with us, but not your advancements in weaponry."

"We've witnessed your human capacity for war," he said, pointing at digit at the human's chest, who leaned back. "It would _absolutely_ bring more harm than good."

"But who are you to judge what's best for us?" Optimus Prime had witnessed his planet torn apart by "advancements in weaponry."

He was the right being to judge what was best for them. Humans practically dreamed up new weapons, willing to use them on whatever moved after they were developed into finely-tuned killing machines. Earth was simply a younger, organic Cybertron.

Optimus was determined that the two planets didn't share the same fate.

"With all due respect, we've been fighting side by side in the field for two years," Lennox came to the Autobot's defense.

"We've shed blood, sweat and precious metal together," Epps shouted from the ground.

"Soldier, you're paid to shoot, not talk," Galloway snapped back.

"Don't tempt me," he muttered.

Optimus was startled by the sudden threat as the USAF Sergeant started to walk off. He held his servo out in a "calm down" gesture. "Easy," he said, speaking to the solider as if he was an Autobot.

"And the newest members of your team. I understand they arrived here after you sent a message into space. An open invitation to come to Earth, vetted by no one at the White House." Optimus resisted the urge to face palm. Were the President and the rest of the humans in the White House really worrying about that?

"Let me stop you right there, Mr. Galloway. It was vetted right here. And in my experience, the judgement of both Major Lennox and his team has always been above reproach."

"Well, be that as it may, General, it is the position of the President that when our national security is at stake, no one is above reproach. Now, what do we know so far?" Optimus didn't bother to listen as the human started to go over everything that had happened into past two years, going into meticulous, useless detail. It was like he was summarizing what had happened in the first installment for everyone that hadn't bothered to already learn about it. The humans and Autobots that were here had already been filled in. Galloway was just spouting off useless facts.

"And since no one can seem to tell me what the enemy is now after, well, there's only one clear conclusion! You! The Autobots! They're here to _hunt _you. What's there to hunt for on Earth besides that? 'The Fallen shall rise again'? It sounds to me like somethings coming." Well, yes. Hadn't Optimus said something to that effect two minutes ago? He was the typical military desk jockey; talked all the time so that he wouldn't have to listen. "So, let me ask, if we ultimately conclude that our national security is best served by denying you further asylum on our planet, will you leave peacefully?" _No. We're going to slaughter you all_. What was this human thinking?

"Freedom is your right. If you make that request, we will honor it." Galloway nodded, as if expecting this answer. However, Optimus had another thing coming for him. "But before your President decides, please ask him this. What if we leave, and_ you're wrong_?"

The goldfish look was back again.

"That's a good question," Lennox said.

The technicians that had been needed to contact the General dispersed, and Galloway retreated his quarters to lick his wounds.

With a sigh, Lennox leaned forward and spoke in a hushed tones. "_Please_ allow me to let all hell break loose on that guy's ass."

Optimus tilted his head to the side. "What are you considering, Major?"

"Release the Twins on him" he suggested.

Optimus shook his head. "That's too cruel," he said.

"He's gotta learn to respect you guys," Lennox insisted. "And we both know you want to do it."

"Skids, Mudflap," Optimus called, and the Major had to keep from jumping with joy.

The younger Autobots stumbled into line, staring up at the Prime in pure amazement. Optimus noted that it was a miracle that they weren't fighting each other.

"Make sure Director Galloway knows his way around base."

"Yes, sir."

"We got it, Prime." They transformed, tearing out of the hangar.

In the distance, the panicked shrieks of Director Theodore Galloway could be heard.

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><p>Author's Note: REVIEWS = Faster updates, I <em>promise<em> you that it works that way.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Forgive me for the late update? Hopefully this will make up for it because I went for "ridiculously funny."

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><p>Chapter Four<p>

"Sir," Arcee's tone was urgent and high-pitched, the way it got when she was panicked. Ironhide knew that something had gone horribly wrong. "The Decepticons have the fragment."

Ironhide focused on the femme. "What do you mean, 'the Decepticons have the fragment'?"  
>"The remaining shard is in their possession, sir," she was frantic, all three forms glancing back and forth as she gripped at her servos.<p>

"Prime!" Ironhide roared, his optics glowing with fury as he marched out of the hangar. "Show yourself! _Optimus_!"

The Prime semi-truck approached the weapons master before he could focus his anger on small moving targets. And there were plenty of them. Humans were swarming in controlled chaos, and none of them were smart enough to even pay attention to the hot, glowing cannons.

"I told you that the humans would figure out a way to mess this up. We should have _never _agreed to that treaty," he snarled.

Optimus' optics tightened, wincing slightly. "I wouldn't go to that extremity."

"They have the only remaining piece of the All Spark, and they made an effort to obtain it. That's never good. Decepticons don't take risks for what could be a waste of time."

"What happened?" The distinct, annoying voice of Galloway had Optimus and Ironhide turning to face the human.

"The 'most secure naval base in the world' was attacked and stolen from," Ironhide said, mocking the earlier conversation between the Prime and the Director.

"What did they take?"

"The last remaining shard," Optimus' optics darkened, adding to the seriousness of the situation.

"You _let_ them take the _shard_? When the President hears of this, I assure you-"

"Insist that your President authorizes _Cybertronian_ security systems instead of the crap you use," Ironhide snapped.

Galloway didn't spare the weapon's master a second glance. Instead he focused on Optimus. "And _you_. I hope that you realize there are human soldiers that will be sent home in a box because of this."

Before the Prime could respond, Ironhide answered for him, his cannons whirling. "I would prefer to send a liaison home in a box."

"Ironhide," Optimus warned. "Now is not the time." He turned to Galloway. "I am aware of the consequences, Mr. Galloway."

The Prime turned away, walking towards Lennox. "Major, we need transport to Princeton." Sputtering, the liaison jogged after the huge robot. Optimus Prime didn't dismiss Theodore Galloway, oh no, Theodore Galloway dismissed Optimus Prime.

"I can get some C-17's in the air," the Major answered. "I just need to know what for."

"I fear that Sam may be in danger," Optimus said. "We must hurry."

"You think they'll go after the kid?" Lennox asked in disbelief. Sure, he had Bumblebee which made him more of a target than any other civilian, but he was just that. A civilian. Someone who could blend in with the millions of civilians in the U.S. alone, and thousands just at the Princeton University campus.

"I will not authorize a pointless little vacation-" Galloway said, trying to re-establish his power.

"Then it's good that it is not under your jurisdiction," Ironhide rumbled. "We only need Will to give us the go-ahead."

Galloway narrowed his eyes at the Major, daring him.

William Lennox had always been one to take a risk, and glaring back at the liaison, he answered. "Let's get you up in the air."

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><p>Bumblebee, by all accounts, was a mischievous little shit. Seeing no reason to hang around the Witwicky residence, he decided to embark on his own little road trip to the East Coast. He had been halfway across the U.S. when he received a comm. from Optimus and learned of the attack on the Diego Garcia base.<p>

His engine revved, and weaving between other vehicles, he doubled the speed limit.

_Sam. Danger. Protect him_.

Finding Sam on Princeton University campus had been no problem. He just needed to figure to get the most attention without transforming into his bi-pedal mode.

Parking on the lawn of a frat house and blaring an obnoxious alarm would have to suffice.

The reaction was quick and preferred. The boy came scrambling out of the frat house. "What are you doing?"

"Houston, we have a problem," Bumblebee answered without alarming the boy. He had a feeling that "Decepticons attacked Diego Garcia and they stole the All Spark fragment and we're _screwed_, man, we're _screwed_" wouldn't go over well, especially, with- what was that? Alcohol? The scout made a mental note to force the boy to listen to Ratchet lecturing about the dangers of underage drinking.

"What is it?" Sam demanded furiously.

"Freshman!" Holy Primus. It was another Trent. What was with this kid and him pissing off big jocks?

"Yeah?"

"Is that your car in our bushes?"

Bumblebee half expected Sam to say _Its actually my alien robot guardian. You jelly?_ But instead the boy replied "No, there's a friend of mine, he just went to get you a tighter shirt."

_Well played, Sam. Well played._

"There isn't a tighter shirt. We checked." They fist-pounded. Bumblebee repressed the urge to transform and go into a "Come at me, bro," type of position. But he didn't, even though Optimus would probably be trying to hide a smile while lecturing him.

"Now how 'bout I park my foot in your ass?"

"What size shoe do you wear?" Bumblebee thought that could be considered for The Top Ten Stupidest Things Sam Has Ever Said To People Who Could Probably Kill Him.

"Yeah?"

"Hold on," Sam said, trying to ease the tension that he had created.

"You wanna try?" The kid asked, trying to maintain his reputation for intimidation.

"I'll back it up right now," Sam promised, sliding into the drivers seat.

A tawny-skinned, curley haired boy bounded up to them.

"You have a ride? Bro, why are you holding out on us?" Bumblebee couldn't believe it. Oh _Primus_. Sam had managed to find another Miles, but this time he wasn't white or blonde. It was an ethnic version.

"I've only known you seventeen hours." That was a good answer on Sam's part, because, honestly, he was weird enough on his own.

"This is gonna really change our lives. You have no idea." No. Not White Miles has no idea. Sam's life had extended beyond the boundaries of "change."

"I_ love _Camaros." _Really? _There was Not White Miles and now there was Female, Slutty Miles. What. The. Hell?

"I can't do this right now, okay?" Sam said.

"Don't be a wimp!" Bumblebee let the girl open the passenger side door, her presence immediately raising his suspicion.

Was she a prostitute being used in place of Mikaela?

"Oh, God," Sam said. God couldn't help them now.

Bumblebee peeled out from in front of the frat house, partly because he was pissed. He felt extreme loyalty to Mikaela because she saved his aft from being shot to the Pit when his legs got blown off.

This hooker could never replace Mikaela. How could Sam do this to her?

"My first car was my dad's '92 Z28," she said.

"Yeah?"

"Fuel-injected. The roar of the engine... just tickles me." The word "tickle" was incredibly uncomfortable to Bumblebee. After Sam feeling him up in Bobby Bolivia's parking lot, it had taken on a new meaning.

"We shouldn't stare... I mean, share stories with each other at all." Would it be less awkward when they saw each other on campus after their night of fun?

Which Bumblebee would do his best to ruin.

He really did want to get stuck in a Ratchet lecture about STD's. The only consoling thing is that Sam seemed incredibly uncomfortable.

"Come on, Sam. Just one ride."

"_Your cheatin' heart,_" Bumblebee crooned through his radio. This was a great chance to get revenge against Sam for leaving him in that horrible little shack on the opposite side of the country. Plus he was demonstrating how useful he was as a bro. There was no way he was going to let Sam cheat on Mikaela, especially when they all knew he was so far out of her league. It only got better when he played the _Jaws_ theme until he finished off with_ "she's a super freak, super freak, she's super freaky."_

She fixed her gaze on the center console. What? Did she want to do some freaky-ass three-way? "Is your radio broken?"

"No, my concentration is," he answered. It was because his sexual hormones were going through the roof. Bumblebee was pretty sure this wasn't normal, even for the kid's age.

"We're no cheating. Not yet." Okay. No. She did_ not _just go there. Bumblebee loved Sam and Mikaela too much to let the stupid human boy go through with this.

He hiked up the passenger seat as a warning.

"Is something wrong here?" She asked. He slammed the passenger seat against the dashboard. It made a satisfying _thump_. He screeched to a halt.

"OW!" Sam yelled. Why he did was completely lost on Bumblebee. He hadn't been hurt. "Oh, God. Are you okay?"

"Ow," she growled.

"_She's mighty, mighty-_" Bumblebee started to say in explanation, but Sam drowned him out.

"I really don't know what to tell you . This car has a lot of problems. A lot..." It was too bad neither of them had gotten it. Because now he had to squirt lubricant in her face.

"It's in my mouth!" Sam yelled. "Are you okay? I got Wetnaps. I got Wetnaps for your face. Hold on."

She got out, walking towards the sidewalk. She was pissed. Mission accomplished.

"I... I'm so sorry," Sam called, following her and stopping in the middle of the road. He turned back to his guardian. "What are you doing?"

"Something's up," Bumblebee answered, using a clip from a movie. "We gotta go talk wit' the boss."

* * *

><p>Oh, I love writing from Bee's perspective. He's so young and in that awkward phase of innocentnot innocent. Love him!

And the reminder that can be found at the bottom of any chapter on FanFiction: Review, please.

Love you!


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: I know, I know, its short. But I watched the movie, and I saw the _very_ small amount of dialogue and I was like "Well... fuck..." It wouldn't mesh well with the last chapter, and it won't with the next... so just bear with me, okay?

Okay. Here's chapter five.

* * *

><p>Chapter Five<p>

The cemetery was empty. Blades of grass rustled, brushing against each other as the wind rushed against Optimus' armor. Traffic from the city streets below sounded different, hollow and broken, unable to penetrate the solemnity of this place.

Optimus watched where he placed his peds, carefully avoiding crushing modest, gray grave-markers among the proud, white marble statues.

There was a twinge of disappointment, small yet certain, when Optimus realized the sadness at how there was no one to be alarmed of his presence. There was no one here to pay respects, or strong enough to face the memories that were brought up when one saw the name of the dead. But... those were for the recent deaths.

And what was one to say about those that were buried in the 1800's? The 1900's? The ones that were forgotten, lost because of untold stories and left behind as time passed on. Nothing remained but a name and two dates.

It was void of the living and ruled by the dead. And Optimus could see why no one wanted to be here. It was a silent promise: someday, somewhere, your body will fail you and you will die. You will join the eternally sleeping masses after your short time here. There may be second chances, but the one rule of all life is that there must be death. You have to stop coming back eventually.

Optimus' audio receptors caught Bumblebee's roaring engine, and turned to face the roadway that cut past the cemetery.

Sam climbed out of the drivers seat, hopping up onto the ledge, approaching the Autobot leader without hesitancy. The boy had grown since Optimus had last seen him. He held himself with more confidence. Gone was the frazzled young human that frantically begged Optimus to stay in his alternate mode only two years ago.

This was a silent war hero, which reflected in his deep brown eyes. The ghosts of the desperate, screaming humans as the inexplicable fell upon them. The dying cries. And the flickering of Megatron's optics as the All Spark overpowered him.

The Great War had claimed another casualty of innocence. But right now, Optimus needed that soldier, that young man, to step up and help them, _defend _them and fight for them. The Autobots had done it in Mission City. It was a necessity that the favor was returned.

What came out of Sam's mouth was not encouraging.

"You won't give me a day, huh? You won't give me one day in college?" He asked, and, to a certain degree, was right.

"I'm sorry, Sam, but the last fragment of the All Spark was stolen," Optimus said. In all honesty, he believed the boy's education could wait. This was far more important.

"Like what? Like Decepticons stole it?" Sam was confused, uncertain. How could that have possibly happened?

"We placed it under human protection at your government's request," he explained. "But I am here for your help, Sam, because your leaders believe we brought vengeance upon your planet. Perhaps they are right. That is why they must be reminded by another human of the trust we share."

"This isn't my war."

"Not yet," Optimus agreed, casting a serious look down on the human. "But I fear it soon will be. Your world must not share the same fate as Cybertron... whole generations lost."

The memories of screaming younglings shoved themselves to the forefront of his processor. The brilliant orange, red and blue skies as the Youth Sectors were bombed by the Decepticon Seekers.

In a matter of nanokliks, everything precious was destroyed. Torn apart. Mutilated. As the Decepticons laughed, gleeful with the chaos as they crushed the few remaining survivors under their peds.

_How could you have allowed that to happen, Optimus?_ A voice asked. The Prime would have preferred that its tone would be accusatory and harsh, but instead it was a gentle, inquiring, curious little thing.

Something that Optimus couldn't bring himself to crush... it was exactly like the voice of a youngling.

"I-I know..." Sam said, finally showing the right amount of sorrow. But he couldn't even begin to understand exactly what Optimus had meant. The Autobot leader hoped he never would. "And I want to help you, I do, but I'm not some alien ambassador, you know? I'm a normal kid with normal problems. I am where I'm supposed to be. I'm sorry. I... I really am."

Disappointed.

Optimus was disappointed, and he turned away, unable to accept that their only hope of defense would turn his back to them.

"Sam, fate rarely calls upon us at a moment of our choosing," Optimus said, warning tinging his tone. There were certain things one didn't have a choice in, and while Sam had the right and the oppurtunity to make that decision for himself, Optimus knew that this one was wrong. This is not what should be happening.

But Sam was done with this conversation, and Optimus' dignified attempt to beg for his help.

"You're _Optimus Prime_. You don't need me," he snapped as he walked towards his guardian.

If only Sam was feeling this inner turmoil right now. He hated that he even needed to drag Sam back into this war, but the need for his help was more urgent than the need for the human boy to be protected. Those were the choices.

He had to ask himself if _he _was making the right decision.

"We do," Optimus said quietly. Sam heard it, but he didn't bother to turn back. "More than you know."

He watched as his scout drove back to the city, and cast his optics to the bright blue, promising sky.

"We've always needed you, Sam Witwicky," he whispered, stepping over a tombstone. "We always will."

A nagging thought tugged at Optimus.

One day, Sam would be sealed beneath the earth in order to decompose in peace. He made a promise to himself that he would be buried old and gray, nothing like he was now.

There was no way Sam was going to the grave burned with plasma shots or shredded by Decepticon claws.

Little did Optimus know that Sam's death was only three days away

And his would be in the next few hours.

* * *

><p>Don't you love how Optimus ruined a perfectly funny fic?<p>

What a Debbie Downer. Seriously...

I forgive him though. The seriousness comes with the badassery.

Much love to all the reviewers, favorites and alerts!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

The ride back to the college campus was silent. Bumblebee knew that Sam was uncomfortable, but he offered no reprieve from the insane amount of awkwardness. He would have to deal with this on his own. Like the Autobots were dealing with the American government.

The human sighed. "Look, Bee-"

"I don't wanna hear it," the scout snapped, using someone else's voice. And he _didn't_ want to hear anything Sam had to say. They were both being defensive in their own rights, and certainly nothing good would come out of this conversation.

So the best thing to do was to not have it.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Great," he muttered. "My car is having a temper tantrum."

Bumblebee screeched to a halt, disrupting traffic and earning a few honks and verbal insults. The driver's side door flung open, and Sam stared at the center console in disbelief.

"Bee, you can't-"

"It's not my job to serve you."

"I'll be late to class!" Sam protested, clinging to any hope that Bumblebee placed Sam's education higher than his own feelings.

"Then I suggest you run," Bumblebee replied, all but throwing the human out. He closed the door and peeled into the traffic lanes going the opposite direction. He only looked back to make sure his charge got to the sidewalk safely.

'My car,' he had said. _My car_. There was something so dismissive and condescending about the term._ My car_. Bumblebee wasn't a possession. Sam didn't _own _him. They were friends, and the human didn't seem to know what that meant.

With his engine roaring, Bumblebee accelerated, locking onto Optimus' coordinates.

* * *

><p>Optimus and Bumblebee drove up to the warehouse, Sam's desperate negotiations with Megatron reaching their audio receptors. Bumblebee transformed and moved to intervene, but Optimus gestured him to stop.<p>

For this very short period of time, Sam was being protected by Megatron's sadistic ways. Optimus knew that they must use this to their advantage. The scout began to move back and forth on his peds as the Prime scanned the side of the building and began to climb.

"When I go through, come in," Optimus ordered softly. Both Autobots listened intently, the Prime somehow managing to pick his way across the rooftop without it caving in. The center part was made out of glass, it came to when they couldn't wait any longer, Optimus simply stepped through the ceiling.

He bent his knees, absorbing the impact and using the force to propel himself upward, flipping over the pit in the middle of the warehouse. He shot at Megatron with his ion blaster, none of the bullets landing on their target.

Megatron jumped up so that he was facing Optimus. Without hesitancy, Optimus shot at him. He caught Starscream in his peripheral vision, shoving the Seeker away and turning to shoot at him, alternating between the Decepticon lord and his second-in-command.

Starscream tumbled out through the glass windows, and Optimus' full attention shifted to Megatron.

This time the ion blaster bullet it its target. The Decepticon Lord was pushed out of the warehouse by pure force.

Optimus Prime stepped out by the hole Megatron had created. He called out to Sam, transforming as the boy scrambled toward him. The human frantically climbed into the cab.

Optimus peeled out. He knew that this small battle was not over, and he knew that Megatron would show no mercy to any humans occupying the city. The only thing he could do was get out of the heavily populated area as quickly as he could.

Optimus managed to find a highway that cut through the forest. It would have to do. Megatron was already upon them.

"Here he comes!" Sam yelled, twisting to see the Decepticon Lord burst out from the trees.

Megs shoots at OP. OP transforms and Sam rolls out of the cab. Megs tackles OP and they roll, tumbling across the small meadow.

Optimus got back on his peds, punching Megatron in the face. He jumped up to hit Megatron again, but the Decepticon Lord tackled Optimus. The Prime's body slammed to ground, force and momentum turning over the dirt and sending debris everywhere.

Optimus separated himself from Megatron, picking up a tree, and slamming it into Megatron's torso, forcing him to turn away.

"Weak!" Optimus shouted. "Puny! Waste of metal!" Megatron twisted back, Optimus ducking under the swinging blade.

Optimus landed another punch, Megatron falling and then rolling back onto his peds.

"Junkyard crap!" He sliced at the Decepticon Lord with his Energon sword, pulling back to elbow Megatron's face.

"Decepticons!" Megatron called, beckoning Starscream and Grindor to his location. Optimus wasn't surprised by this. It had been a long time since the Decepticon Lord had fought with honor. But it did make Optimus' job of protecting Sam that much harder.

Megatron broke away from the battle, chasing the human. Optimus caught up to him, attacking him with a side tackle, forcing him to the ground. The Decepticon Lord got up like it had been nothing, and swung his leg back.

Optimus caught it, slamming his arm down on the joint, making it shudder under the pressure as Megatron was twisted back down to the earth. Optimus kneed him in the face, and then pivoted back to face Starscream's attack.

He caught the Seeker by the throat twisting so that he was rolling on Starscream's back, securing him in a headlock while the Seeker frantically fired his weapon.

Optimus lifted the Seeker so that he was upside down and then kicked him in the face.

Megatron had recovered and was now making a proposal. "There is another source of Energon hidden on this planet. The boy could lead us to it."

It was a compelling argument until he threw Optimus into a clump of trees, kicking him in the face, the plating flying off.  
>There was a muffled, desperate scream from Sam that somehow managed to snake its way into his ringing audio receptors.<p>

"_Optimus_!"

Optimus fell to the ground. He tried to get up, only to be knocked back by shot from Starscream.

He stumbled and somehow managed to right himself, turning back to Megatron. The end of a cannon was pointed directly at Optimus' chest. The force of the blast had Optimus airborne a good hundred feet. He landed, dirt spraying everywhere. He spit out a part of his jaw.

"Is the future of our race not worth a single human life" The Decepticon Lord asked as he approached the Prime. What would Megatron know about the value of life? He lived on destruction and chaos.

"Up! Get up!" Sam called.

"You'll never stop at one!" Optimus snapped, his energy renewed by pure fury. The Energon blades ejected from his wrist. "I'll take you all on!"

He began hacking at the Decepticons without thought. A stab at Starscream. Slicing off Grindor's rotating blades. He began to use their bodies against him, again pressing himself against Starscream's back and using him as a living shield from Megatron and Grindor.

He shoved the Seeker back, attacking Megatron. His sword slid into the Decepticon Lord's knee joint, his other slashing at his face. Energon spewed from Megatron's mouth when Optimus landed a hard punch. He pushed him back, and then focused back on Starscream.

He hit the Seeker's shoulder joint, Starscream's arm popping off. Optimus proceeded to bitch-slap him with it.

The Seeker disengaged from the attack, falling back as the Prime threw his arm away.

Optimus jumped up to Grindor, hooks replacing his blades. The end of one caught Grindor's optic. Optimus used the hold to pull himself up onto the warrior's back, sinking the other hook into the Decepticon's face before tearing it off.

"Piece of tin," he spat, using one of the hooks to drag Grindor's body to the ground.

Immediately, his focus was to find the boy. "Sam! Where are you?"

A servo clenched his shoulder. He should have remembered that he had not killed Starscream or Megatron.

A blade protruded from his chest, just below his Spark.

"No!" Optimus cried out desperately. All of that, for _this_? Megatron was playing a sadistic little game. Both Cybertronians knew that the Prime was as good as dead. Both knew that it would take one little shot to kill him.

Optimus clutched at the blade as Megatron lifted him into the air.

"You're so weak," Megatron snarled before firing. He ripped the blade out, and the Prime began falling to the ground.

Why this planet?

Why, out of the countless masses of spheres of rock or liquid or gas, did it have to be Earth?

The answer was already formed in Optimus' dying processor.

Earth was special. It was beautiful. It was vastly different, and yet so sparkbreakingly familiar. Every time he looked around, Optimus would get a bout of homesickness. It was the same, like the organic version of Cybertron itself—but it was an alien world. It was different. And it wasn't Cybertron.

And slowly but definitely, Earth was swirling into the massive, destructive chaos of war and violence.

So Optimus was forced to ask one simple question as he died, as Sam stared at him in disbelief.

How much of that war and violence had they brought to Earth.

They had a good contribution. The destruction of Mission City and Shanghai had that to prove.

Lives had been ripped away because one night, DEcepticons had decided to wreak havoc on some random city. Lived that were vibrant and full of promise and hope, and lives that were storytellers about to join the dead anyway.

Optimus was determined that Sam would not be one of those lives—and that his death would not lead to the fatalities of billions of others.

Optimus' body crashed to he ground. His systems barely registered it; they were busy telling his processor what else was wrong.

He gave one last order, one more thing that must be done before he joined the Well of All Sparks. His optics took in Sam's defeated, hopeless form as he looked on the Autobot leader.

His systems whined as he settled on his back to die.

"Run, Sam. R..." His head rested on the ground, his optics flickering to black.

Reinforcements arrived just too late.

"Autobots, attack!" Ironhide yelled, firing at the retreating forms of the Decepticons.

"Bumblebee, get them out of here," Ratchet ordered. The scout waited only long enough for Sam to climb in, and was then peeling away from the battle.

As soon as the Autobots had come, the Decepticons were gone. Ironhide glared at them as they took to the sky.

Sideswipe's question broke the weapon's master's post-battle mindset. "Where's Prime?"

Ratchet was the first to see the charred, broken, dirt-stained body of their leader. He started toward it at a brisk walk. Then a jog, then a run, as he pieced together the only reason Optimus had for not acknowledging his soldiers.

The medic skidded to a halt and stared down at the body. Emotional detachment began to sink in, his training in medicine for thousands of years preparing him for this.

He didn't even need to run a scan.

Ratchet spoke four words he never expected to hear, much less say. "Optimus Prime is dead."

* * *

><p>Author's Note: I added that first little bitty part to explain why Sam had been left on his own to deal with Alice. And yes, Optimus does actually call Megatron "Junkyard crap" and bitch-slaps Starscream with his own arm. I laughed when I noticed that. But then I became all serious because our badass hero dies. I had to watch that scene at least ten times. Heartbreaking.<p>

Well anyway, here's a fair warning for the next chapter: a lot of self-blame on Bumblebee's behalf.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: Aha! You totally didn't expect me to update this quickly, did you? Nope! Yes, well, this is your special Halloween treat.

* * *

><p>Chapter Seven<p>

The only sound in the cargo hold was the constant, rumbling thrum of the C-17's engines. The Autobots hadn't moved since rolling onto the ramp and inside, and the humans were staring at random spots on the floor, ceiling or sides of the aircraft.

No one knew what to think. No one knew how to act.

Optimus is dead.

Three words that didn't belong together, but were now freezing the NEST troops into a catatonic state. There was an extreme lack of sorrow and grief from the Autobots. They loved and respected him as a leader, but that would only go so far in remorse. It wasn't like the death of a unit member. They hadn't trained together or protected one another in battle. Even Ironhide and Ratchet were out of his age range; the two were far older than the Prime.

So it wasn't the death of a brother. It was the death of a leader that left his followers stunned but still able to function. It had been a carefully cultivated outcome that Optimus had set in place on purpose. They were able to continue and move forward with the Autobot cause still present in their processors. It was any good leader's goal to set something up in place so that it may be finished or continued long after they were gone, and Optimus had done so beautifully.

That didn't mean they hadn't been set back significantly. They had lost _Optimus Prime_. The warrior. The hero. The leader. The light. And now he was gone. Forever. They would be able to recover. They've lived through fart too many nightmares and suffered far too much pain to just shut down now. Yes, they would be able to recover... but they needed time.

The plane landed with a hard jolt, but even this didn't illicit a reaction from the humans or the Autobots. The C-17 shut down with a whine, the soldiers exiting with in an orderly fashion as their bodies took over for their brains, where all thought processes had shut down with the inconceivable tragedy.

Ironhide transformed, his movements unnaturally robotic as his soldiers followed behind him. "Let's go," he nodded toward the southern end of the base, where it lacked buildings, and, thankfully, humans. The weapons master didn't become racist since Optimus' death—he knew that they needed to deal with this as their own faction, separate from NEST.

Their small gathering was as about as eventful as the ride to the base. No one spoke. They just stared at the pavement or the bright blue sky, looking for any sign of hope where there was none.

"They're bringing Prime's body in," Lennox said through a speaker that had been connected to Ironhide's private comm. link.

There was a reason why they called it_ the_ body, Prime's body rather than simply calling him Optimus. His body remained—but that was hardly the part of the Prime that mattered. His essence, his Spark, had joined the Well and disappeared into nothingness.

"Transform," Ironhide ordered, folding into his alternate.

"Roll out," Optimus said, and it was all the weapon's master could do from spasming on the spot. When he adjusted his vision, there was no proud, tall, Autobot leader. The voice had come from the greatest depths of Ironhide's processor. It was a subconscious defense, an add-on when it wasn't said after he had heard it for thousands of times.

The limp form of Optimus' body glinted in the receding sunlight. The cables to the Chinook helicopter were released, and his body clattered to the ground.

Immediate rage washed through Ironhide. He stopped himself from shooting at the retreating aircraft, citing what would be the wishes of his lost friend. After all, what would Optimus Prime do?

If he saw was happening right now, he might tear their afts apart. Most likely go the diplomatic route first, but maybe, just maybe, he would make an indisputable argument... with his Energon swords.

Military vehicles encircled them like they were animals, and by training that had become instinct, they drew their weapons.

"What is the meaning of this?" Sideswipe asked, glancing back and forth to the machine gun barrels that were aimed over his Spark.

"You dare point a gun at me?" Ironhide demanded. What happened to the treaty? What happened to being allies. Oh, _right_. It had blown up in their faces just as Ironhide had predicted. He should have bashed Optimus' head in when he agreed to that thing. "You want a piece of me? I will tear you apart!"

Below him, chaos erupted as their _true_ allies, their _true_ human comrades defended them. Orders for weapons to be lowered were called out from both sides as the Autobots pivoted back and forth, waiting for the signal to take out the very real threat that the humans had made themselves.

"Your NEST team is deactivated, Major," Ironhide recognized the voice of the resident idiot anywhere. As if this conflict couldn't get any worse, Galloway was here. "You are to cease anti-Decepticon operations and return to Diego Garcia pending further orders."

"No," Lennox protested immeditately. Of the humans that had participated in the battle at Mission City, Lennox and Epps were Ironhide's favorites. "We take our orders directly form Chairman Morshower, sir."

"Well, I'll see your Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and I will raise you a President of the United States," Galloway said, bring out a slightly crumpled white sheet of paper. Ironhide would happily burn it with a shot from his cannons, along with the abrasive human's hand. "I have operational command now."

Primus, could this day get any worse? With how it had turned out so far, Ironhide wouldn't be surprised if it did.  
>Sideswipe sheathed his blades, sending a message over the public comm. link. "It's over now."<p>

"An alien blood feud has been brought to our shores for which our soldiers are paying the price," Galloway continued, and flung an accusing finger toward the Autobots. "This is our war now and we will win it as we always have: with a coordinated military strategy." That was a joke. Ironhide wasn't aware it was comedy hour on base. But then he remembered; the idiot was being serious.

"This fool is terribly misinformed," Ratchet said. The comment went unnoticed by the humans, but there were vents of agreement from the other Autobots.

"You're gonna need every asset that you've got," Lennox argued.

"What we need is to draw up battle plans while we explore every possible diplomatic solution."

When it came to diplomacy, Decepticons knew only one thing about it: it was a great time to shoot up their enemies.

"Like what, handing over the kid?" Lennox asked, not expecting that it might be seen as a solution.

"All options are being considered," Galloway answered. Ironhide's Spark went cold.

"Bumblebee, make sure you stay with Sam," he ordered over a comm. link. He knew that if the boy was given away, and he wouldn't come back alive or even in one piece.

"Whatever the Decepticons are after, this is just the start," a British officer informed Galloway.

"There is no negotiating with them," Lennox made one final attempt to argue.

It was immediately shot down. "I'm ordering you to stand down. You won't be needing this anymore." He tore off the badge that showed Lennox's rank as Major. He was effectively taking away the Autobot's last and final ally with any influence at all. "Get your assests back to base! And take that pile of scrap metal back to Diego Garcia."

Optimus Prime wasn't a pile of scrap metal, but Theodore Galloway should have been an oil stain on the tarmac.

"I really don't like that dude," Epps stated, saying what everyone was thinking. "He's an asshole."

"Ironhide, we should leave this planet," Ratchet suggested. The weapons master agreed, but they still had to respect Optimus' memory.

"That's not what Optimus would want." Ironhide was just thankful that Galloway didn't know how to count-—then he might have noticed that Bumblebee and the Twins were nowhere to be found, and he couldn't make the conclusion that Sam was with them.

As long as he was in Autobot hands, the boy would be safe. Its a sad day when your own race considers handing you over to alien terrorists to save their own worthless asses.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: So, expect an update this friday because that will be my happy birthday gift to you all, and I <em>might<em> get another one up between now and then depending on how my teachers feel about my homework load this week.

And special thanks to all who have reviewed: you truly motivate me to get these chapters written.

Happy Halloween, everyone!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Bumblebee sat in his bi-pedal form in the courtyard of their private hiding place, feeling hollow. His sadness had since morphed into numbness. He had lived in a war his entire life. He knew how to deal with grief. Sam opened the gate that separated the compound, his expression reflecting what he was feeling.

He walked towards towards Mikaela and embraced her. The third-wheel feeling was back again. "There's nothing that you could have done," she said.

"You okay?" Sam asked. Yep. Definite third-wheel feeling. _Oh, don't mind me.I'll just be over here._

"Yeah," Mikaela answered. Sam, assured by her reply, walked towards his guardian.

"Bee, if you hate me I understand," he said.

Bumblebee whirred and looked away from him. He didn't hate him. He was disappointed and touchy about the subject, but he would never be able to hate Sam.

"I messed up. I'm sorry," his eyes reflected the real apology. Bumblebee could see it, and he would do anything to make it go away.

"Young fella, you are the person I care about most in my life—If there's anything you need, I won't be far away," Bumblebee promised, almost desperately. His and Sam's lives would always be changing, becoming more hectic or calm as time went on. But they would always be able to depend on each other. They would always be each other's constant, the rock to cling to when the tide got stronger.

"He's dead because of me. He came here to protect me and he's dead."

"There's some things you just can't change," Bumblebee said. Call it destiny, call it fate—it had still fucked with their lives more than anyone would care to count. They had to accept the fact that Optimus Prime's death might have been meant to be. "So, his sacrifice for us would not have been in vain. Hallelujah!"

"I'm gonna make it right. I'm going to turn myself in." Sam said, somehow seeing that to be their only option. It wasn't. It couldn't be. And Ironhide's comm. about protecting the boy only intensified his desperation to keep Sam safe. The scout knew that out there, where everything was going on, where federal agencies were searching for his charge, it was dangerous, and Sam wouldn't be able to survive it.

"We... we've got to stick together," Bumblebee said. He wouldn't let Sam know what was going on, and his job and been made easier when the boy intentionally destroyed his phone. Sam wasn't the type to sit back and let others take the fall for him, which was the main reason for his greif and anger after Prime's death. If he knew how the Federal Bureau of Investigation and the Central Intelligence Agency were expending resources just to find him, he would make it easy for them.

"You're not going to do that," Mikaela argued softly.

"Yes, I am," Bee ran into the boy's legs, making his meaning clear. _No. You're not._

"Everything we worked for will be wiped out in one day," Bumblebee said. It finally broke Sam's resolve, and the scout was relieved to see the fighter in his charge return again.

"You two," he said, focusing on the Twins.

"Huh?" Mudflap tilted his head to the side, looking like a complete idiot. Bumblebee disliked the Twins. A lot. So much so, that he would rather he would be in Megatron's company rather than having to deal with the morons. Well, maybe not _Megatron's_ company. The Decepticon Lord was kind of terrifying. Maybe... maybe Starscream. No, that wouldn't work. While the Air Commander wasn't terrifying, he still wouldn't have a problem killing off Bumblebee. _Or_ he could put Megatron, Starscream, Mudflap and Skids in the same room together, and the two Decepticons could kill the Twins with firepower, or Mudflap and Skids could destroy Megatron and Starscream with pure stupidity.

Skids' comment brought Bumblebee out of his reverie. "Look who came sashaying back."

_No. Primus, please no._ Bumblebee begged, but the great creator didn't answer him. He thought he had gotten rid of Leo. _Why, Primus? Why?_

"Hair growing like a Chia Pet. Look at him." Bumblebee could see the resemblance. Maybe the Twins weren't so bad. They were just annoying and got in the way... all the fragging time.

"I had a bit of a mild panic attack earlier, alright?" Leo said. Bumblebee didn't think this was a justification. Sam hadn't—oh, right. Sam had tried to get away from Bumblebee by frantically pedaling into the city on his mother's pink bike.

"I think I'm allowed that, considering what I've been through," the kid continued. Bumblebee would have rolled his optics if he had been in bi-pedal form. He hadn't been through anything, and now he was coming back. The scout just figured Leo was in for a rude awakening.

"I heard you had a problem, and I think I know someone who can help."

"Who?" Sam scoffed.

"Robo-Warrior." Great. They were chasing after a dweebish nerd that hid behind the computer all day.

"Right. Everyone get some rest. We head out in the morning," Bumblebee said, stealing a line from a movie.

"At dawn, we ride," Leo grinned.

Sam raised an eyebrow, and Bumblebee had the urge to transform just so he could face palm. "Dude. Really?"

* * *

><p>"This guy Robo-Warrior, everything about anything alien he's supposed to know," Leo briefed from the front passenger seat as they made there way into the city. "One time we revenge-hacked his site and <em>maybe<em> I saw some of your alien drawings or whatever."

They pulled up to a deli, in a run-down part of town where Bumblebee was sure he would be stolen if he was not a sentient being.

"Deli. Good front," Leo said appreciatively. Bumblebee doubted that they would find anything worth any value here, but a quick scan proved him wrong. Inside, a certain Sector-7 Agent was serving his customers.

It was Seymour Simmons, and the scout was surprised to find that it actually made sense.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: So, hopefully you saw a little bit of Optimus in Bumblebee. I have to have the characters develop, especially since it wasn't done in the movie.<p>

And now, my dear readers, it is storytime. So, I was watching ROTF in the theater, and it was the deli scene, and of course everyone is like. "Who the hell is Robo-Warrior?" And then it cuts to Simmons, and everyone, and I mean _everyone_, was like "Ohhhhhhh." At the same time. It was pretty hilarious.

Anyway, read and review. Love you guys.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

"Bee, we're going to D.C.," Sam said as he came out of the closed store front. The scout's opticial sensors immediately focused on Simmons.

"He's coming with us?"

"It's been a while," Simmons reached out to pat Bumblebee's hood, but the scout revved his engine in warning. The former agent didn't heed, and smirked in satisfaction when they both knew he couldn't do anything about it.

Sam intervened. "Simmons, why are you raping my _giant alien robot guardian_ that would willingly kick your ass? If its some weird fetish you have then Mikaela can hot wire a normal car and we can get to D.C. that way."

Simmons glared at the boy. Sam grinned while Bumblebee flashed his lights twice, his own way of showing his satisfaction. Mikaela tried to hide her smile.

"But, yeah, Bee. Simmons is coming with us." The scout whirred in clear displeasure. He didn't want to be molested by Simmons, and he still hadn't forgotten his experience at Hoover Dam two years ago.

"Look-what's his name? Bumblebee?" Simmons asked. Sam nodded and the agent shook his head. "Weird name for an alien robot. Look, Bumblebee, I was just doing my job."

"The torture was unnecessary," Mikaela snapped. "He never hurt any one of your little soldiers and-"

"S-7 agents are specially trained-"

"HEY!" Wheelie yelled, his annoy voice splitting through the quickly developing argument. "Are we gonna go to D.C. or what?"

The little blue drone's interruption managed to calm the three arguing humans.

"Well," Leo said. "Let's roll out."

Sam flinched visibly, and Bumblebee's Spark tightened in pain. Too soon. They both knew that Leo had no idea that "Roll out" had been one of Optimus' go-to phrases, among them being "Freedom is the right of all sentient beings," but it was still far too soon, and it brought fresh waves of pain back.

Sam shot Leo a dark look that the latter didn't notice or, if he did, wouldn't understand anyway, and cleared his throat. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>"Smithsonian Air and Space Museum. Land of dreams in there," Simmons said as he looked through binoculars. "All I ever wanted to be was an astronaut." Then he proceeded to rip off his pants. And—<em>dear<em> _Primus_—was that a thong? G-strap? Man-thong? Whatever it was, Bumblebee didn't want to know.

Bumblebee had seen plenty of disturbing things. Mutiliated bodies of humans and Cybertronians. His own vocal processor dangling from Megatron's digits, but this, _this_ was on a whole different level. Certain things could never be unseen, and Bumblebee knew that his would be the subject of his nightmares as long as he lived.

The group of humans couldn't get away fast enough, and as soon as they were in the building, all three Autobots transformed and were on all fours, purging their tanks into the grass.

"Man, that shit ain't right," Skids said between coughs

"Did you see all that hair?" Mudflap asked.

Bumblebee and Skids purged what little Energon had remained in their systems. The scout collapsed on the ground. Yes, he had seen all that hair.

"Yo! Stupid ass! Why'd you have to ask that?" Skids attacked Mudflap, and the red twin retaliated, and soon the two were rolling around in a mass of pure idiocy.

Bumblebee groaned and lifted himself up, walking towards the two and tearing them apart.

"Man, Bee, you ruin all the fun," Skids said.

"Shut up," the scout replied.

"Bee's gettin' pissy," Mudflap mumbled, rubbing the back of his head. "But, _man_, shouldn't he be doin' some manscaping down there or somthin'?"

"Shit, bro! I don' want that mental picture again," Skids rubbed at his optics as if it would rid his processor from the horrifying sight.

Bumblebee turned to the museum, scanning for the location of the humans. It was almost sad how he wasn't surprised by the outcome of the situation. They had somehow managed, and this was a feat that Bumblebee respected and condemned them for, to active a stasis-locked Decepticon. A _Decepticon_. What were they thinking? Just because you could point a shard at a Cybertronian doesn't mean you should.

Bumblebee could protect Sam from a lot of scary shit, but the boy's own stupidity might end up being the death of him.

"You two-" Bumblebee's processor stalled when the Twins pointed at themselves, trying to clarify who he was talking to.

Really? They were the only two sentient beings in the entire parking lot. Did they think that he was talking to the bushes? The sad thing was the bushes would probably be of more use.

Bumblebee rolled his optics. "Follow me."

They transformed, speeding towards the air field, where an old black Deception was wreaking havoc while the humans attempted to calm him down. Bumblebee didn't bother to intervene. The humans looked like they had it under control... Okay. So, maybe they didn't. But there was no way in the Pit that he was going to get in the way of some ancient crazy-ass Decepticon.

Who fell back on his aft. The humans ran after him.

_Primus, why are humans so stupid?_ The Creator either didn't know himself or was refusing to answer Bumblebee.

"I think we can help each other," Sam began, once the opportunity to reason with the Decepticon revealed itself. "You know things I don't know. I know things you don't know, I do."

"I don't think he knows anything," Leo interrupted. "Honestly, I don't." Surprisingly, Bumblebee agreed with this assessment.

The Decepticon's optics flashed. "Prove it."

The boy whipped out a dagger—where had he gotten _that_ thing?—and began to draw in the dead yellow grass in the field. Bumblebee was able to recognize all the characters, he unlike the Twins, had been educated and trained at the Autobot Academy in Iacon. He could not, however, piece the words into a message. It was about the first seven Primes. What confused Bumblebee was the fact that nothing else made sense.

Sam finished off the last character. "I could do this all day. It comes in waves, these vivid symbols. They're symbols, but they're in my mind. You see, all thins is in my mind and Megatron wants what's in my mind. Him and someone called the Fallen."

"The Fallen? I know him," the Decepticon reacted with more zeal than Bumblebee would have originally anticipated. "He left me here to rust. The original Decepticon. He's terrible to work for. It's always apocalypse, chaos, crisis. These transcriptions, they were part of my mission, the Fallen's search. I remember now, for the Dagger's Tip and the key."

"Slow down. The Dagger's Tip? The key? What are you talking about?"

"No time to explain. Stay still or you'll die!"

Bumblebee stayed still. He didn't want to die.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Guess what the word count is without this author's note.

1,234.

Yep. I'm a pro.

As always, please review. And my readers that always have a review waiting for me, thank you. I really do appreciate it, as I'm sure all authors do.

And there _will be_ an update sometime tomorrow, as it is Vetran's Day _and_ 11/11/11. If not, feel free to send an angry PM to me. You need to hold me accountable!

And thank you again.

I just realized that this A/N probably sounds like a drawn-out good-bye between lovers.

Oh! And oddly, that reminds me. I know I promised self-blame which I didn't deliver because 1. It didn't match up with what Bee said and 2. I tried to write out the self-blame, but somehow, after writing a single sentence down, my mind was able to turn it into what could be interpreted as Bee dropping off Sam in a red-light district without condoms...

My mind is fucked up, but its what gets these stories done... so...

I think the sentence was "And he left Sam on the sidewalk without any protection."

And, finally, goodbye.

And review. Don't forget. Review. Always review.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Bumblebee felt like he was being squeezed into a hole that was way to tight for him to fit in. His processor frantically searched for ways to get out of this predicament, while his body laid limp in a combination of extreme fear and excessive training.

And then, as quickly as it had happened, he was trying to right himself in the air, limbs flailing madly. His armor was slammed with sudden heat, and his internal location unit spun uncontrollably as it scrambled for his coordinates.

Bumblebee landed on his shoulders, flipped and ended in a graceless roll. His suspension systems took most the force, but he still registered minor pain.

His charge wasn't so lucky. Sam suffered a broken wrist, and Bumblebee was jogging over to the boy, looking for a solution and finding none.

"Your girl-get training at the medical institute-local health center," Bumblebee said, using an assortment of medical advertisements to tell Sam to get help from Mikaela. Ratchet had taught simple procedures to the girl during infrequent meetings between the Autobots and their civilian friends.

"Yeah, okay," Sam nodded, pushing himself up and running to greet the other humans.

When they all gathered around Jetfire, Simmons was being his normal, aggravating self, shouting up at the Decepticon-turned-Autobot. "That really, really hurt. You're just lucky that I didn't get hurt." Bumblebee thought that, as a whole, their group was severely unlucky. "People could have gotten killed, okay? And if I would have gotten hurt, you would have heard-"

"Shut up," Jetfire ordered. "I told you I was opening a space bridge. Its the fastest way to travel to Egypt."

"When did you-when did you tell us? You didn't tell us anything. You didn't tell us anything! Why are we in Egypt?"

"Don't you get snippy with me, fleshling! You were duly informed." Bumblebee wouldn't call that a good breifing, but the "move and you're dead" warning was nice.

"Can you just stop for a second? Can you just focus?" Sam asked. "Can you tell us why we're in Egypt so we can all have a little bit of semblance of peace of mind?"

"This planet was visited by our race once before by our earliest ancestors, millennia ago," Jetfire began. "They were on an exploratory mission to harvest Energon, the lifeblood of our race. Without it, we'll all perish, oxidize and rust, like my wretched self! Do you know what it's like to slowly fall apart and die?"

Bumblebee vented. If Jetfire was their only hope, then they were pretty much screwed.

"Let's not get episodic, okay, old-timer?" Simmons was one to talk. "Beginning, middle, end. Facts. Details. Condense. Plot. Tell it."

Bumblebee hunkered down. Even though it was probably exaggerated beyond repair, it brought him back to when he was young and innocent, looking forward to legends like these. It was story time. "Somewhere buried in this desert, our ancestors built a great machine. It harvests Energon by destroying suns. You see, in the beginning, there were seven Primes, our original leaders."

Maybe there was some truth to this. He had heard something about seven Primes in his history course at the Academy. "And they set out into the universe, seeking distant suns to harvest. The Primes set out with one rule, never destroy a planet with life, until one of them tried to defy this rule. And his name forevermore was the Fallen." That was an interesting plot twist.  
>Jetfire held his palm out, a holographic image of a nasty-looking Decepticon appearing in front of the humans.<p>

"He despised the human race," the image expanded to a full battle-field view. Maybe this wasn't a whole bunch of glorified lies. "And he wanted to kill you all by turning on that machine. The only way to activate it is with a legendary key called the Matrix of Leadership. A great battle took place over possession of the Matrix. The Fallen was stronger than his brothers, so they had no choice but to steal and hide it from him. In the ultimate sacrifice, they gave away their lives to seal the Matrix away in a tomb made of their very own bodies, a tomb we cannot find. Somewhere, buried in this desert, that deadly machine remains. The Fallen knows where it is and if he finds the tomb of the Primes, your world will be no more."

"Okay, how do we stop him?" Mikaela asked.

"Only a Prime cannot defeat the Fallen," Jetfire said. So, fake stories or not, they were screwed.

"Optimus Prime?" Sam guessed.

This caught Jetfire's interest, and he leaned down to the human. "So, you've met a Prime? Why, you must have met a great descendant. Is he alive, here on this planet?"

"He sacrificed himself to save me."

"So he's dead," Jetfire summarized. "Without a Prime, it's impossible. No one else could stop the Fallen."

"So, the energy that's gonna be used to reactivate the machine, could that energy somehow be used to reactivate Optimus and bring him back to life?" Sam was fighting to cling to hope, and Bumblebee almost felt pity for him.

"It was never designed for that purpose, but it's an energy like no other," Jetfire re-ignited the group's fighting spirit, and Bumblebee sat up just a little bit straighter.

They might actually be able to pull this off. It was possible. That's all they needed.

It was possible. They could bring Optimus Prime back to life.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: It ended kind of suddenly, but I like how it is. I thought that continuing the dialogue would ruin it. Thank you, just for making it this far. Love you all!<p> 


	11. Chapter 11

**Well, first off... I'm really, really sorry for the 2-month-late update. I haven't even looked at this since November. Not that I forgot about it... I just haven't had the time.**

**Now, to explain what will go on in this, and later, chapters. This is the point in the movie where everything skips around and basically goes to hell. There are two parts to this chapter, which are separated by the horizontal line thingy. Parts 1 and 2 have no relation and I wrote them separately because I was too lazy to write a bridge between the two.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 11<p>

"Okay, here's what my CIA contact says. Ancient Sumerians used to call the Gulf of Aquaba the "Dagger's Tip."  
>That was great. Bumblebee could have Googled it, but Simmons had to take the longer, more-likely-to-be-detected route by using what the former agent had called his "connections."<p>

"That's the Dagger's Tip," Sam needlessly repeated.

"Its part of the Red Sea. It divides Egypt and Jordan like the tip of a blade. 29 point 5 degrees north, 35 east. Here it is."

"First thing we've got to do is get Optimus to the Dagger's Tip." Sam said.

"How are you gonna get him halfway around the world?" Leo asked.

_We're going to use fairy dust. _Bumblebee thought crossly. Leo's question didn't aggravate the scout that much, but between the Twins riding on his aft and trying to get each other to crash, Simmons constantly talking (for a former Secret Agent, the man didn't know how to keep his mouth shut) and the fact that news of the Autobot's detainment had reached him, Bumblebee was about to explode.

But before his beloved yellow Camaro could throw a hissy fit, Sam opted for the more mysterious "I'm gonna make a call" while glancing at his roommate in the mirror.

Whooping sirens of police cars reached Bumblebee's audio receptors just as Sam half-yelled "We got cops!"

The evasive maneuver had been simple enough, with Bumblebee feigning to the left and then continuing on the road he had been on, Mudflap and Skids following obediently behind. It was almost funny to see the drivers of the vehicles panic as their cars spun out "I can't go to prison guys," Leo called out, nearly, Primus help him, pressing himself of control as the police frantically tried to recover from their mistake.

Leo continued to panic as the other three humans remained calm as the pursuit became more desperate and therefore more intense.

"Sam, we got to get off this road and lay low," Simmons directed calmly, his voice only loud enough so that he could be heard over the sirens. To Bumblebee's relief, Leo saw that everyone else was keeping their heads and that he should do the same.

Making a few quick turns and ending up in the significantly less populated side of the small town, Bumblebee transformed and began to climb onto a tall building's flat rooftop, beckoning for the Twins to follow his lead.

The two began to climb side-by-side, and just when they reached the top, one said something that the other didn't like, and a shoving match began when they were trying to haul themselves on top of the building.

Skids began to fall and it was only Bumblebee's notably fast reflexes that saved him from landing on his sorry aft.

The green twin rebounded from what could have choked his pride and, hanging upside down, said "Man, stupid cops" as said pursuers sped by, the wails of the sirens slowly quieting as their distance from their targets was furthered.

"This is what's called blendin' in like a ninja," Mudflap said, wavering a little with his grip on the rooftop ledge, recovering by hanging his other arm out.

"Shut up or I'll blend my fist in your face," Skids shot back, looking as about as intimidating as he could be, with Bumblebee holding his ped to keep him from crashing into the ground.

The antics of the Twins went unnoticed, and Mikaela, taking off a scarf from over her mouth, whispered "They're gone."

"Okay, we're running out of time. I gotta make the call to Lennox-" Sam started.

Simmons shut that idea down in an instant, knowing exactly what it the repercussions could be. "You're on the Worldwide Wanted List. Try calling one base, they'll track you here in seconds. CIA is all over this place."

"You're gonna call," Sam stated simply waiting for Simmons' reaction.

The former agent was stunned. He had, after all, just discovered that the kid had a brain. Who knew, right?

"Okay," he allowed. That's a good idea."

"All right," Sam said, nodding his head.

"I mean, I just had my mid on other things, like winding up in an Egyptian prison."

"Okay, let's go over it again," Sam suggested, and Bumblebee groaned internally."When the dawn alights the Dagger's Tip-"

"-The three kings-" Simmons started to say.

"-Will reveal the doorway-" Sam finished. Their teamwork was so gosh darn cute.

"That's what he said. You know what it means?" Simmons asked, possibly rhetorically. The man liked to throw around the fact that he often knew much more than the average civilian.

"No, what does it mean?" Sam asked. Bumblebee noticed that the boy had become more willing to work with Simmons now that they had a shared goal-survival.

"I have no idea," Simmons admitted, casting his eyes to a small, decrepit wooden tower and tensing just a little while his mind worked out a way to avoid being thrown in an Egyptian prison.

"Oh my God. Oh my God." While Simmons didn't show his panic (which was mild at best anyway), Leo made a show out of his.

"Checkpoint. Checkpoint. I don't have my passport."

Bumblebee slowed as he approached their closest entrance to Egypt, praying to Primus that Simmons would be able to navigate his way around this particular obstacle. Because, right now, he could be nothing more than a car.

"Passport!" A border official called, hopping down from what Bumblebee assumed to be a step stool, revealing that he was shorter than they had all first assumed.

"They got cameras at the top," Sam observed, doing his best to look away and not be suspicious, though he did to a terrible job at it.

"All right, chill. This is espionage now. I can handle it," Simmons attempted to reason with himself, his forced confidence comforting no one. "These are my people. I'm one one-thirty sixth Arab."

"Great. A fricking Munchkin. Little people are mean. Tell him he's tall," Wheelie suggested helpfully, only to be ignored by the four humans and Bumblebee.

After hopping down the steps, the small human ran a dirty digit over Bumblebee's frame, forcing the scout into a traumatizing flashback of when Sam unintentionally felt him up when Bumblebee first planted himself for purchase two years ago.  
>Lost in that dark memory, Sam had to prod Bumblebee into the present, the scout remembering what he was supposed to do as he crossed into Egypt.<p>

"What was that about?" He asked, staring at the steering wheel.

"There are some things that a man can never forget, son," Bumblebee replied in a deep, twangy accent from an old cowboy movie.

"Yeah, let's just get out of here before munchkin realizes he should've arrested Sammy boy," Wheelie pointed out. He was rewarded with Bumblebee speeding up, kicking up rocks on the loose, gravel road.


End file.
